


Oh Deer, Oh Deer!

by Spatzi_Schatz



Series: Monster Sheith Month 2019 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Caribou Keith (Voltron), Cervidae People, Deer people, Good Samaritan Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Monster Fucker Sheith Month, October Prompt Challenge, Prompt Fic, Shiro saves Keith from a fence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatzi_Schatz/pseuds/Spatzi_Schatz
Summary: Keith should have been able to clear the fence easily. And in fact he had cleared the fence. The first fence at least. But the second fence was so close to the first, nearly invisible with its thin wire and metal posts, that by the time Keith saw it when he landed, he had no choice but to barrel through it and hope that he was strong enough to break through.He had not been strong enough.





	Oh Deer, Oh Deer!

**Author's Note:**

> More soft monsters! This time of the Cervidae variety, inspired by a video of someone rescuing a wild horse from a wire fence. Day 2 of [Monster Fuckers Sheith Month Prompt Challenge](https://twitter.com/monstersexsheit).

Keith should have been able to clear the fence easily. And in fact he had cleared the fence. The first fence at least. But the second fence was so close to the first, nearly invisible with its thin wire and metal posts, that by the time Keith saw it when he landed, he had no choice but to barrel through it and hope that he was strong enough to break through. 

He had not been strong enough. 

Now, he was in a predicament he wasn’t sure he would be able to wiggle his way out of, both figuratively and literally, his back legs tangled in the mess of broken wires and torn-out posts. He tried to kick out again, wiggling his torso to maybe get a better angle. It did nothing. The wires coiled nearly all the way up to his hock, cutting deeper into the skin every time he tried to bend it. Gritting his teeth against a whimper, he tried to at least drag himself away from the fence. If Sendak found him by his fence… he shuddered at the thought. 

“Stupid fucking Sendak,” he muttered under his breath. “Stupid fucking ranchers. Stupid fucking apples…” 

Keith managed to drag himself and his useless back legs about six feet before the wire pulled taut and allowed him to pull no farther. He hissed as the thin metal cut deeper into his back legs and he stomped his front hooves in frustration. Hauling his human torso up as much as he could, he tried to cut the wire with his knife, but it was just shy of his reach, though he swiped several times in a futile attempt to free himself. 

Finally giving in to the inevitable, Keith dug his antlers into the dirt and let out the self-pitying bleat that had started to build in his throat. This might and well truly be it. Unless by some stroke of Goddess-Blessed luck a member of his herd came by and freed him--which was doubtful because  _ no one was supposed to go near Sendak’s farm _ for the very reason that he was a sadistic bastard who shot first and asked questions later--it was very likely he would die here, possibly very slowly if Sendak discovered the apples he’d stolen from his orchard. 

Keith took a few gulps of breath to cut off the brewing panic attack and rubbed furiously at his face, dashing away the few tears that had managed to slip out. Broken legs were better than dead, he thought grimly. He’d fight until his last, even if it was with a shotgun to the head, caught and cornered like a rodent by a fox. Scooting back a little, he resumed yanking at his back legs, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

So focused was he on freeing his legs, he didn’t hear the person approaching from the long-grass field between him and the treeline. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t do that. You’re gonna hurt yourself more.” 

Keith startled and whipped around toward the voice, ears pressed flat back against his skull as he activated his knife, putting the blade between him and the voice. He bared his teeth like a wolf at the stranger and tossed his head, snorting and pounding the dirt with his front legs. His antlers weren’t nearly as large as Kolivan’s or even his mom’s, but he could still do some serious damage to anyone stupid enough to come into range.

“Whoa, okay…” said the stranger, apparently smart enough not to come into the range of either his antlers or his sword, held up empty hands. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” 

Keith assessed the stranger, sharp gaze flicking over the well-muscled arms and wide shoulders. He was big too, for a human, and strong looking, and with a strange metal arm that moved just as well as his flesh one. Trapped as he was, Keith knew the stranger could give him a run for his money if he were to attack. But he carried no weapon that Keith could see, no rifle nor even a knife. He also had a soft voice and warm gray eyes that felt like they were stripping Keith down to the sinew. Keith shivered under the strange but oddly-comforting gaze. He stopped struggling, lowering his sword slowly until it’s tip dug into the dirt. 

The stranger watched him for a moment more before he lowered his hands, also slowly, but he didn’t approach. “Would you like some help?” he asked. 

Keith chewed on his lip, but he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? Accepting help from a stranger, a  _ biped,  _ was better than a senseless death at the hand of Sendak. He nodded and willed his sword back into its dormant knife shape. 

“I can’t reach,” he said, turning to glare at his back legs caught in the fence wire. 

“Okay, I’m going to come take a look, okay?” the stranger said. 

Keith nodded, and only then did the stranger approach, still slow as he came around Keith’s back and knelt by his hind quarters. Keith twisted to keep an eye on him, the fingers of his free hand curling and uncurling with nerves, his ears swiveling toward any and all noise in the field. 

The stranger hissed quietly when he saw the way the wire had dug into Keith’s flesh, before digging in the pouch on his hip, pulling out a small rectangle, no bigger than his palm. But with a flick of his wrist there was a flash of metal and Keith kicked instinctively, eyes widening as he bucked. Liar! The stranger was a liar, probably a ranch hand or cronie of Sendak’s. Maybe just an opportunistic hunter, but regardless, he was a liar! 

The stranger dropped the rectangle-turned-weapon to put his hands on Keith’s hindlegs and side, stroking his flank until he calmed. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he soothed, voice low. “Shh.. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you I was pulling that out, but it’s just a multi-tool… wire cutters to get you free. Shh.. you’re okay.” 

Keith’s heart rate slowly calmed, coming down with deep pants. The stranger didn’t move except to continue petting his flank. It was more soothing than it should have been. Keith continued to eye the rectangle-turned-strange-torture-device mistrustfully.

“Let me see it,” he said. 

The corner of the stranger’s mouth twitched, but he picked up the strange object, now in the shape of a narrow “X,” and offered it to Keith. Keith took it gingerly and studied it, looking at the oddly-shaped edges and the weird way it opened and closed. He wasn’t entirely convinced of its lack of ill-intent, but he handed it back to the stranger, who took it back carefully. Still petting Keith’s flank in long, even strokes, the stranger worked the strange device between the wire and Keith’s leg. Keith closed his teeth around a hiss and dug his nails into his palm as the stranger cut the wires and peeled them from Keith’s flesh where they had dug in while he struggled. 

The stranger continued his litany of calming, low words and petting as he cut and pulled away each wire until Keith was free. As soon as the last wire was cut and the stranger’s hand was off his leg, Keith scrambled to get his forelegs underneath himself and launch up, eager now to get back to the safety of the forest. He made it barely a step before he fell on his belly again, his hind legs refusing to cooperate. The reedy noise that escaped his throat would have been embarrassing if Keith hadn’t been on the verge of panic. He tried to kick his back legs, but the pain that richoched up from his bloody hind feet was nearly blinding, buckling his forelegs. 

Snarling, Keith forced himself up again, heedless of the tremors in his muscles as he stumbled forward. He managed a few, staggering steps on uncooperative, sluggish back legs before collapsing again. His breathing was coming in heavy and quick as the stranger came back into his line of sight in the corner of his vision. Keith whipped his head toward the human. 

“I-i I can’t get up. I can’t walk!” He would hate himself later for how panicked he sounded, but he was, in fact, panicking. 

“It’ll be okay,” the stranger said, ignoring Keith’s disbelieving snort. “I’m staying not too far away, a rented cabin at the edge of the forest. I can take you there, if you’ll let me? You can rest until your legs have healed.”

“How am I supposed to get there if I can’t walk?” Keith snarled. 

“I’ll carry you,” the stranger said, undaunted. 

Keith eyed him and the hand he held out warily. The stranger just smiled, nothing but warmth in his gray eyes. 

“Trust me?” he asked. 

Keith was taught to  _ never trust _ , not even other denizens of their forest, and especially not any biped. And yet… And yet something, like a whisper on the wind, told him he could trust this stranger. 

“Okay,” he whispered. 

With the same gentleness he had done everything else, the stranger came to his other side and shuffled closer on his knees, wrapping one arm around Keith’s hind leg to grab the parallel forefoot, and with no more than a grunt, hoisted Keith onto his shoulders. Keith bit back a startled yip and resisted the urge to squirm at the strange sensation of  _ being carried _ . Looking down at the stranger, Keith saw that not only was his gait not impared by the extra weight, but he was barely short of breath, controlling his breathing as he strode purposefully toward the edge of the forest. 

Keith was glad the stranger couldn’t see what Keith’s face was doing at the moment. 

“So,” the stranger said on a controlled exhale. “What’s your name?” 

“Keith,” he paused. “And yours? Or should I just call you my champion?”

The stranger barked out a short laugh that further darkened the flush on Keith’s face that he was fiercely glad the stranger could not see. 

“Shiro is just fine,” he said. 

“Shiro…” Keith tested it on his tongue. He liked it, he decided. He liked him, this strange yet caring biped. He looked down at the top of Shiro’s two-toned head. 

“It’s nice to meet you Shiro, Champion of hapless creatures.” 

Shiro laughed again, louder and less restrained, and Keith felt the turning of a new season. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tea_an_books).


End file.
